


The Closet is My Friend

by RogersBlueEyes



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Break Up, Established Relationship, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mrs. Deacon is a love, POV's, Romance, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26916187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogersBlueEyes/pseuds/RogersBlueEyes
Summary: Roger and John have had such a bad argument that the bassist has left his boyfriend and moved back to Leicester. Freddie had returned from a trip to find a distraught and possibly suicidal drummer just a few short weeks before they have to leave to go on tour.
Relationships: John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Comments: 48
Kudos: 60





	1. The Games We Play

"At last!" Brian jumped up from the couch as soon as he heard the key turn in the lock and walked quickly to the hallway where Freddie had just put down his suitcase.

"Oh, Hi Bri. Damn, that flight was awful. No first class seats left, had to sit in steerage for God's sake." He walked past the guitarist and turned suddenly sensing something was wrong. He had always had that uncanny ability.

Brian sighed and shook his head looking at a loss for words.

"Brian? What's happened? Where's Deaky" And Roger?" He swung around.

"I've been trying to tell you, Fred, it's....."

"What ?! Out with it!" The singer sat down on the couch waiting for the worse. "Did they have an accident?" His voice was quiet.

"No. No!" Brian shook his head. "It's almost worse. Deaky's gone."

"Gone!" Freddie went pale.

"I mean he's 'left' gone. He and Roger split up. It was awful." Brain blew out his cheeks. "Roger has been in his room for the last two days, won't come out." The curly haired guitarist shook back his hair and dangled his hands between his knees.

"What happened? Exactly?" Freddie crossed his arms.

"Roger accused Deaks of cheating on him with the girl down the hall. You know, the posh bird? She'd asked him to help her with some catastrophe in the kitchen and Roger saw him leaving her flat and kissing her. Said he looked like he was enjoying it too much." Brian made a face. 

"That's rich coming from Roger" Freddie couldn't help making a scoffing sound. 'So, he kicked him out?" 

"Well, there was a shouting match and John said some petty awful things to Roger and half an hour later he was gone and Rog..." He nodded towards the bedroom door.

"Fuck. There's the tour in two weeks. We can't have those two not speaking to each other." Freddie pressed his lips together.

"Well, that's not all. Deaky said he's had enough and he's quitting Roger and the band. I think he meant it, Fred." Brian raised his hands and dropped them.

"Fucking hell!" Freddie stood up. "Okay. First things first. I'm going to talk to Roger. He's the most important part of this debacle." Freddie took a deep breath and approached Roger's bedroom door and turned the handle. Amazingly, it opened. Of course, none of the bedrooms had locks. He pushed the door slowly, peering around the corner.

"Roggie, my sweet?" The singer called out softly. The unmade bed was a mess but no one was in it. "Roggie?" He gently pushed the bathroom door open. Empty. He stood in the middle of the room looking bewildered. The drummer must have left without Brian knowing? 

Freddie sat on the edge of the bed and thought. An idea had come to him. He got up and slowly opened the bifold closet doors. 

"Oh, Roggie." Freddie crouched down immediately. The drummer was curled up in the corner of the closet wearing his old red gym shorts and a battered t shirt and what looked like on of John's old pullovers half covering his face. His hair was a mess around his face and only the tip of his nose showed from behind the wool sweater. 

"Come on, sweet boy." Freddie stroked back the blonds silky hair. The drummer looked more 16 then 26. One blue eye was exposed and the sadness in it was heart breaking to the older man.

"Deaky's gone." It was raspy whisper. 

"I know, baby. Bri told me." Freddie sat down on the floor and took hold of the drummer's hand in his. "Can you come out now?" 

"Want to stay here." The blond buried his face back in the sweater and sighed as if he was all out of energy.

"Okay, for a bit. Then we're going to get you into a nice warm bath and wash those golden locks." Freddie bent over and kissed the top of his head before standing up. 

Brian was standing in the middle of the living room, waiting. "How is he?"

Freddie sighed and lit a cigarette. "About what you would expect. He's devastated." He didn't mention John's sweater or the closet. "Bri, can you run a bath for Rog and put some of that stuff from the states in it. The calming stuff?" Freddie didn't care when Brian gave him an odd look. 

"No, I'm not going to drown him." Freddie chuckled. "Later, I'll try to get hold of John. Do you know where he is?"

"Leicester, I think." Brian rolled his eyes. Going that far away wasn't good. He was putting distance between them both. That wasn't good. Brian had a really bad feeling about this. He didn't tell Freddie but he'd found all the knives and razors in the flat and hidden them. Scoured the bathroom cabinets for aspirin and anything remotely lethal. It had been so bad the first day with the blond a sobbing, shaking mess. 

Brian felt useless. He's tried to stop John from leaving nearly three days ago. He knew what the outcome would be. He'd tried to convince him to stay in London but the bassist was adamant he was going, that the drummer was crazy and he was done with it all and the band. The exact phrase was 'you can all go fuck yourselves. I'm out of it.'

Brian had looked from the slammed door to Roger who was standing in the doorway of the bedroom and wished Freddie had been there to prevent it all happening. 

It hadn't been that difficult getting the drummer out of the closet and to sit on the bed and wait till the singer got the bath ready. Freddie thought he'd be okay without Brian's help. He didn't want Roger to be embarrassed, though the state he was in he probably wouldn't even notice. 

"Okay, babe. Do you want to undress here are the bathroom?" The big bathtub was in the shared bathroom and they had to walk past Brian who had actually disappeared into his own room now that the older musician was in charge of the situation. 

"Don't care." The long sigh. Freddie almost chuckled but didn't dare. 

"Okay, then. Let's go." Freddie stood the blond up and realized he'd already started losing weight. Probably hadn't eaten for three days. 

Freddie carefully undressed the blond and got him into the bathtub. "Nice huh, baby?" The singer sat on the edge of the bath facing the blond. I'[m going to wash your hair and get you into some clean clothes and get you something to eat, yeah?"

"I guess so." The blue eyes looked at him blankly. Had the drummer even understood what he'd said? 

"Oh Rog. I'm so sorry about all this." He crouched by the bathtub and put his face in his hands, gazing at the blond who looked straight ahead. "Talk to me, Rog. Please." 

"It hurts a lot, Fred. Really hurts. Inside." The blond turned and looked at him. 

"Do you want me to talk to him?" Freddie asked. He was going to talk to the bassist, anyway. He was probably feeling just as bad as the drummer. They'd been together for nearly two years and this whole thing was inconceivable. There had to be more to it then that. Much more.

"Maybe?" Roger bit his lower lip. All he wanted was Deaky back in his bed again. To go to bed with him at night and wake up to him in the morning. To party and drink with him and make love with him. 

"Okay, I'll call him once we've got you settled. You look so pale, Rog." He smoothed back the messy blond strands and the drummer nodded. There seemed to be a glimmer of hope in his blue eyes.

"So let's get your hair washed." Freddie stood up and grabbed the plastic jug by the bath and ran some warm water from the tap into it. He was sure almost saw a smile on the blonds lips.

John was probably feeling just as bad as Roger was and on top of it he felt guilty about the things that he'd said. The thing was that Roger hadn't been all that wrong when he said John looked like he was enjoying the kiss too much. He had. But it was a one off. Not something that he had really done before. Not since he and Roger had been together. The blond was better at kissing and everything else. More than any girl he had dated before. 

"John, dear." His mom called up the stairs. "Freddie is on the phone. Coming down or should I ask him to call back?"

John practically ran down the stairs. His mother had no idea about his relationship with Roger. He'd just told her it was about the band. 

"Thanks, mum." He took the phone from her. "Hi, Fred." he tried to sound calm. It suddenly hit him that maybe there was something wrong with Roger? Had something happened?

The conversation was short. Freddie told him in no uncertain terms he needed to get back to London. He understood Roger may have said some things he shouldn't have but he was in a pretty sorry state now.

John tried to sound calm as if he was doing okay but the first thing he said after Freddie had said his bit was "Is Roger alright?" He couldn't keep the concern out of his voice.

"Deaks? Really? What do you think?" Freddie sighed. He knew John would understand. "I found him in the closet. I wasn't going to tell you. I know it was funny when he did that about his song but this wasn't funny." 

"The closet?" John chewed a fingernail. Freddie didn't know but that the closet wasn't just a one off since the "I'm in Love with My Car " incident. The closet was the drummers go to place when he was scared or frustrated or angry or any number of reasons. Like a security blanket, it was his friend. But John couldn't bring himself to ever let anyone know this secret. It was between the two of them. Many a night he had slept in the closet with his boyfriend. It was no big deal then but if he was on his own?

"Yeah. He hasn't been eating or washing." Freddie knew he was loading it on but he was thinking about the drummer. And about the band. "Brian says you said you're leaving the band?"

"Uh, well. I guess I was just angry." He felt again that feeling of being accused of doing something he really hadn't thought was that bad. But Roger had seen it differently.

"When can you come back?" Freddy was getting impatient. He was looking towards Roger's bedroom. He'd left the blond in a freshly made up bed, with a glass of milk and a plate of sandwiches. Brian was keeping him company while Freddie tried to entice John back home to London. 

"Well, probably not right away." He was feeling suddenly stubborn. Freddie had overplayed his hand. 

"We have the tour soon, Deaky." Freddie came up with the trump card. He was wondering if they really did need to start thinking of getting a new bassist. 

"I know. I haven't forgotten." John's voice was tense. "What's Roger doing? " He couldn't help asking. He missed him so much. He'd missed him from the moment he'd stepped out of the flat and slammed the door. 

"Why don't you come back and find out." Freddie put the phone down. He'd done his best. He went back into the bedroom John and Roger had shared. Brian was talking to the drummer who was looking sleepily at him. Freddie had put a half of a crushed up sleeping pill in the warm milk. He wanted Roger to have a good sleep and they could talk the next day.

Brian looked up and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Roger was nibbling on a sandwich and looked so young in the striped pyjamas with his freshly washed blond hair tumbling over his shoulders. Thankfully, he was too sleepy to ask any questions and just gave the singe a sleepy smile.

"We've been talking about the tour and Roger's songs." Brian stood up and took the almost empty plate away. He gave Freddy a questioning look but the singer just shrugged his shoulders and sat down in the same place Brian had. 

"Feeling sleepy, love?" The singer held out the glass of milk to the blond who dutifully drank it. There was a bit more colour in his face now and thankfully he didn't enquire about John. 

Freddie took the second pillow away and turned the bedside lamp on low. "I'll stay with you till you fall asleep, Rog." He promised and that was only a few minutes later. But he stayed longer and stretched his legs out. 

His thoughts went back to when he'd first met Roger a few years before and when John had joined the band. No one would think this fragile blond under the covers was the same confident sometimes mouthy drummer in a famous band. The groupies clamored for him more than the others. That was fun to watch. He rolled his eyes at the memories. But then he and John had gotten together and all that ended up in the past. Eventually. That was what was funny about John kissing the bird at the end of the hall. Roger got away with that stuff but apparently, not John. 

Freddie was sure Roger was asleep but when he got to the bedroom door he heard the drummers raspy voice. "Fred? Deaky will come back, won't he?"

"I think so, love. Yeah. I think so." Freddie whispered and then to himself said. 'Even if I have to drag him back."

John had gone to bed feeling that he'd been strong and had stood up to Freddie. But as he lay there thinking he felt bad that way Roger would be reacting. He had wanted to call him so many times but stopped himself even as he had started to dial the number. He didn't know why. He didn't want to feel guilty but he did. He loved Roger more than anything in the world and he should have just apologized at the beginning and not said the things he said that had escalated the whole stupid argument into an actual break up. He couldn't break up with Roger. It was impossible to think about. Not to see that beautiful blond head on his pillow every night. Those strong drummers arms around him every night. Even hanging out in the closet. Did Fred know the extent of the closet? No, Roger wouldn't say anything. It was their secret that he had kept for two years.

John knew he needed to go back. He had to tell his boyfriend he hadn't meant it when he said he was spoiled and a brat and too demanding because the truth was that was why he loved him.


	2. Past and Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit heavy on the angst. Sorry.

The sleeping pill that Freddie had given Roger worked but he still woke early, his hand reaching on the pillow that was empty on that side of the bed and buried his face in the wool pullover that his boyfriend had left behind. It was his security.

Two Years Ago:

  
"Rog?' There was something wrong. John could sense it. He and Roger had had an emotional conversation which stemmed from a disagreement with the band over a song and then that had brought out other things. He couldn't even remember but the drummer had shut down and wouldn't talk, anymore so they had decided to just go to sleep. The blond had been loving and affectionate as he always was. They hadn't been in the relationship that long but John felt as if it was going somewhere. Well, it wasn't like they were heading towards getting married but he wanted to go to sleep and wake up to Roger and no one else.

John peered into the darkness. He knew Roger was in the room. He could sense it. "Sweetheart?" He didn't often use that word unless they were well under the covers out of earshot of anyone. He heard the slightest of sounds coming from the closet.

"Rog?" He crouched down and put his hand out in the darkness to touch his boyfriend. As his eyes got accustomed to the dark he saw Roger was fast asleep, his head on a pile of old tee shirts and sweaters. He felt warm but looked so sad.

"Baby?" John couldn't possibly leave him like this. It wasn't the first time, anyway. He grabbed a pillow from the bed. They couldn't both fit into the closet unless it was empty on the floor so he gently managed to turn the blond around so that only their legs from the knees were out of the small space. John pulled a blanket from the bed and covered them both and put his arm around the blond pulling him close. This wasn't the first time and he'd done this and he didn't realize then how many more times it would happen. But that didn't matter. It was their secret.

"Rog, do you want to tell me what the closet thing is about, babe." John and Roger were back in bed together. The room was very cold and they had the covers pulled over their heads so there was a tent like atmosphere. The two lay nose to nose almost the hands clasped together at their chests. John wrapped his leg over Roger's to keep him warm. He stroked back the golden locks of hair. He loved the silky texture. 

"Maybe later?" The blond put his arm around John and pressed his face into his neck. It felt warm and comfortable and it made feel happy. He didn't want to think about what made him hide in the closet. He was a grown up, now. He was nearly 23 which meant John was nearly 21. He should be more mature and in many ways he was. He'd had more life experience for sure but John did something for him. He made him feel loved and cherished and he was unbelievably hot in bed. 

"Whenever you want. I just think we need to sometime." John slid his hand inside Roger's pyjama bottoms and down his thigh. 

"Mmm." The blond sighed and did the same. He loved making out with John in the morning before Brian and Fred were up. He loved the smell of him and his long wavy brown hair, his lips. 

"I love you so much." John always told him he loved him. Every morning. And every time he said it the blond smiled and he said the same back because he loved John Richard Deacon more than anyone in his life. 

"I love you." Roger pressed his tongue in between the brunettes lips and moaned into the kiss. 

Leicester 

John woke in a panic. He'd had a bad dream. He pushed up towards the headboard and pulling his knees up he wrapped his arms around his legs. He was shaking and trying not to cry. But he must have called in his sleep because his mother was in his room wearing what looked like was the same dressing gown she wore when he was little.

"John, dear?" She sat on the edge of his bed. He was taken back to his childhood. "What was the dream about?" She aske softly and pout her arm around his shoulders. And just like he had as a child he'd cried till he couldn't cry anymore.

Finally, he told her. He'd dreamt that he and Roger had had a falling out and he hadn't talked to him in years. Over twenty years. And when they say each other again, they were old. He looked at her with tear stained eyes.

"You know, there's probably something you boys don't know." She kissed the top of his head. Me and their mothers get together every few months for lunch. We all get the train into London and meet at Harrod's or Fortnums and treat ourselves"

"You do? You never said." John sniffed and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his pyjama top. 

"Mmm. It's nice." His mother nodded and suddenly she seemed to look the same age she had when he was younger. "We catch up with one another's news and of course talk about you boys." She sighed. 

"Winnie, Roger's mother, has told us a lot about his father and the havoc he caused. How Roger and his sister dealt with it." She took hold of her son's hand.

"Winnie said that she was happy you and Roger are such close friends. That she doesn't worry about him when she knows you are there." She looked into his eyes. "Roger is a nice boy but he's a bit lost, I think?"

John nodded. "You don't know the half of it." He sighed. 

"Maybe." His mother said gently. "That dream of yours is telling you something?" She stood up. "Milk and cookies?" She smiled at him.

"Yes, please." He settled back down on the pillows. His mom always got him milk and cookies when he was upset. After the little talk, of course.

Brian woke with a feeling of confusion. He was putting together the last few days and still couldn't get his head around it. Was John coming back? He worried about Roger. The future of the band which was his future, too. All of theirs.

He knew he was feeling selfish but also a little guilty for letting John leave like that. He felt sure now that he could have stopped him. He winced at the look of absolute despair on Roger's face. 

"Rog?" Brian pushed open the drummer's bedroom door. The room was empty but he could hear the shower going. He turned around to leave but not before he saw the pillow and blanket inside the open closet. He crouched down and touched the blanket. It was still warm. He stood up and left before Roger would know what he'd seen.

Roger had finished his shower. He couldn't remember the last time he's had a shower on his own. He looked at his face in the mirror. He thought he looked a wreck. It had been three days since John had left and he didn't know if he was ever coming back.

"You really fucked that up, Taylor." He peered into the mirror more closely after wiping away the steam. He leaned his head against the mirror and let the tears flow.

"Mom?" John had zipped up his bag and dropped it in the hallway. "Don't worry about breakfast. "I'll get something on the train, okay?" 

"Alright, dear." His mom came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on her apron. "Back to London?" She looked at his bag.

"Yeah. I'm going back." He nodded and looked at her. "You know, don't you?'" He asked softly. His mother could read him like a book.

"I only know what you tell me, my love." She reached up to kiss him on the cheek. "Give my love to Roger." She stood at the doorway and waved him off.

"Lovely son." She whispered as she watched him turn the corner and stop to wave at her. He knew she would watch him till he was out of sight.

"Oh, hi Bri." Roger looked up from sorting his laundry. "Thanks for doing this for me." 

"You're welcome." Brian nodded. He had taken Roger's dirty laundry to the laundromat the night before. It was all he could think of doing for his friend. Freddie was better at the emotional stuff. 

"Anything else I can do?" He looked around. The closet door was closed but he didn't make a point of looking at it. What he saw just made him feel even sadder for the drummer. 

"No, I'm good." Roger rolled his eyes. That was such a lie and they both knew it but what else could he say.

"Well, I'm making coffee. I'll bring you in a cup." Brian said over his shoulder, not waiting to hear if the blond wanted one or not. He wished he could think of something to make Roger feel better but other than get Deaky back again he was at a loss.

"How is he?" Freddie had just come in from clothes shopping and dropped his bags on the couch. He thought having some retail therapy would help him get his mind off the drummer and his misery but it really didn't work.

"Seems a bit better but." Brian shrugged. "Not really. He's just trying." Brian went back into the kitchen.

The singer nodded and looked at the drummers door. He had hoped John would have turned up by now. 

"Rog? Can I come in, my love?" Freddie knocked gently on the door.

"Sure." The word was said on sigh. 

Freddie opened the door and saw Roger sitting on the bed pretending to read a book. The older man sat down and looked around the room. "You've been busy." He noted how tidy it looked.

"I guess." Roger frowned. "Not much else to do." 

Freddie took hold of one of the drummers hands and just held it. "I know, babe."

Brian put the phone down. He felt shaken. He hadn't thought anything could get worse. But he had to talk to Freddie alone.

"What?" Freddie had followed Brian outside of the building. The guitarist didn't want Roger to overhear them. 

"John's mother just called. He left Leicester this morning to come back to London. She just heard on the radio that there has been a train derailment a few miles out of the town and they don't know the number of casualties or if there are any fatalities."

Brian's hands were shaking and he crossed his arms, tucking his hands under his armpits.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Freddie rolled his eyes. "Fucking hell." 

"What do we do?" Brian looked up at their flat. 

"Wait. What else can we do?" Freddie sat down on the buildings steps and reached for his cigarettes. "Roger will just curl up and die if anything happens to Deaky, Bri." 

"I know." Brian sat down beside him.

Roger finally turned on the radio and caught the tail end of a song before the news came on. His face had gone pale. It was the only time in the last few days that he hoped John wasn't coming back.

John had the worse headache in his life. He could hear voices shouting and he wanted to tell them to stop and let him sleep. Someone was prodding him and then lifting him gently.

"Wanna sleep." He heard himself grumble.

"What's your name, mate?" A male voice he didn't recognize. He thought for a moment and realized he didn't know his own name.


	3. Chapter 3

Roger waited by John's hospital bed till he woke up. He'd been coming in and out of consciousness all day and each time his eyes fluttered open Roger's heart with almost stop with anticipation. 

John's mother had gone home as she knew her son was out of danger and that his friends were there with him. She recognized that there was a special relationship between her son and his friend and gave the blond a motherly kiss when she left the room, promising she would be back the next day, Roger hardly heard what she said but he nodded and smiled and went back to watching John's face for any sign he was waking up. 

Brian and Freddie had walked Mrs. Deacon back to her home where they were all staying. It would be impossible to move Roger from where he was sitting next to the bassist and they didn't even try. They made sure he had what he needed in the way of food and coins for the coffee machine but otherwise let him be. He was probably the best medicine for the bassist, anyway. 

John was aware of Roger's presence but for some reason just couldn't open his eyes to let him know. He did think it was strange that every so often he could feel the drummers calloused hands holding his for a few seconds and even stroking back his hair. He liked it but the whole thing was strange. Since when was his room mate and fellow band member so affectionate? 

Roger was trying to listen to what the doctor had been saying earlier about possible short term memory loss. He took it to mean that his boyfriend would forget things they had done or dates or whatever. He could deal with that.

"Rog?" John finally managed to open his eyes for more than a fleeting second. 

"Deaky, yeah it's me." Roger sighed and took the brunettes hand in his. "Been waiting for you to wake up." He smiled but there was something odd in the way the brunette was looking at him and then at his hand. He carefully pulled his hand away and sat back in the chair. 

"You don't usually do that." John tried to chuckle but stopped when he saw the look on Roger's face. He'd hurt his feelings. John tried to sit up, leaning on his elbow and Roger pushed the pillows up behind him a bit higher so he could sit up.

"Thanks, mate. How long have I been here, anyway?" John frowned and reached for the glass of water by the bed. He wondered why his friend was just staring at him. "Rog?" 

"Oh, sorry. Just since yesterday. Your mom called us and we drove up this morning." Roger said quietly and looked up as the doctor came into the room. He went outside and waited in the hallway. He needed the time to stop his heart from pounding. The last thing he imagined would be that John had forgotten about 'them'. He could feel a panic attack coming on and tired to count his breathing. It would be way too embarrassing to fall apart when John was the one who had been in an accident. 

The beautiful reunion he hoped he'd have with his lover seemed to have gone up like a puff of smoke. 

Soon, the doctor was saying he could go back in. That his friend did indeed have a little memory loss but that would come back in a few days or longer.

"How much longer?" Roger frowned. He couldn't get his head around it all and wished Freddie and Brian would come back. He'd have to call them.

"The brain is a tricky thing. Runs on its own schedule." The doctor tried to sound reassuring but Roger wasn't convinced. He had a tendency to think the worse. All he wanted was for he and John to be back they way they were. He blamed himself for overreacting to what he saw and causing John to leave the flat. The accident, really was his fault. He took a deep shuddering breath before going back into the room.

"Hey." John smiled, pleased to see Roger was still there.

"Your mom was here earlier and Brian and Freddie went back to your house with her." Roger explained and sat down on the armchair beside the bed. "Bri left some snacks and things." The blond lifted the plastic bad. "They thought it may be a long wait for you to wake up." He chuckled, trying to make light of the situation but then Deaky wouldn't even know there was one.

"Rog. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings." John put his head to one side. 

Roger felt a glimmer of hope but realized the other musician was talking about him holding his hand. "No, that's okay. I was just trying to get you to wake up." He smirked but could feel himself blush just the shame.

"Oh, okay. Just didn't want you to feel bad. We're mates, yeah?" John leaned back and winced. "Fuck, my head hurts."

"Should I call someone?" The blond started to get up, concerned.

"No, the doctor said it will go away. It's not that bad. I'm sure glad you're here, Rog. Everything okay at home? At the flat?" 

"Oh, yeah. Same as when you left." Roger was hoping John would recall why he had left but the brunette just frowned.

"Why did I leave?" He raised his eyebrows but something sad had crossed the blond face and he didn't press it. "I guess it will all come back." He smiled. 

"I better call your mom and let her know you're awake, yeah?" Roger stood up.

"I think the doctor was going to do that, Rog. Don't leave mate. I like you being here. We don't get much time alone together normally, do we?" 

Roger wanted to say yeah, they did. They slept in the same bed every night and spent long Sunday mornings making love and not getting up till noon. Could Deaky really have forgotten?

"I guess you're right." The blond shook his hair out. He needed a smoke. "I'll get us a couple of coffees. Be right back." Roger left the room and took a deep breath outside the door. Nurses passed him and smiled. He gave them the Roger Taylor smirk and went down the hallway to the coffee machine that was close to the smoking room. He took a few drags of his smoke and it seemed to calm him down and then he stuck some coins in the machine for 2 cups of coffee. He had a feeling John may not be allowed to have coffee. 

"Ah, smells good." John took the paper cup and sipped the hot liquid. "Did you have a smoke?" He smiled at the blond and accepted a cookie from the packet Roger held out to him. "Can't believe how hungry I am." The bassist chuckled.

There was a small silence then John looked at the blond seriously. "Are you okay, Rog? I feel like I've missed something. Did we have an argument or something?" John had a faint memory of raised voices but couldn't get hold of anything else.

'Just something stupid. Doesn't matter, Deaks." Roger tried to sound reassuring even though inside he was fighting to keep his emotions under control. 

He visited with John a few minutes more than the nurse came in to say the patient had to rest and he could visit in the morning. Roger has half pleased and half disappointed about leaving. He needed to get his thoughts sorted out and the twenty minute walk to John's home were Brian and Freddie were would help him. He needed to see his friends badly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Deaks." The blond got and squeezed the younger man's shoulder. John put his opposite hand over his friends hand.

"Thanks for being here when I woke up, Rog. It means a lot." John smiled and watched his friend go to the door.

"Night, Deaks."

Night, Rog." John felt suddenly alone when his friend left. He hoped if they had had an argument he hadn't been to mean to Roger. The drummer could be fragile, sometimes. An elusive picture crossed his mind of Roger lying in the closet in their shared bedroom. But try as he might he couldn't get hold of the memory and as the nurse turned the lights down to low and settled him down for the night he couldn't get the blond out of his mind. 

Roger had left his scarf over the chair when he left and John reached over to take hold of it. He smelled it and chuckled as it just smelled like Roger. Soapy and fresh. He held onto it as he fell asleep. He'd always had a crush on the blond drummer and wondered if he had ever told him. Probably not. 

Mrs. Deacon had made them all very comfortable and had plied them with food and tea. She was so grateful to have her son's friends there as it stopped her from agonizing over him. The doctor had assured her that John was fine and would be discharged in a coupe of days. She passed the message on to his friends.

"I'll take a walk over in a bit and see if Roger is okay staying or if he wants to come back here." Brian spoke up.

"Please do." Mrs. Deacon nodded. He seemed so upset about what had happened.

Freddie agreed. "Well, they are close." Was all he would say but he had a feeling the bassists mother probably knew more than she let on. He admired her for that. 

Just a few minutes later though Roger was knocking on the door and told them he had to leave but they could visit in the morning after the doctors rounds. The blond looked tired and Brian held the bottle of Jack Daniels up and raised his eyebrows.

"I'll get the glasses." Mrs. Deacon chuckled. "I think we all deserve a good tot." 

"Now, we have two spare bedrooms. So if two of you don't mind sharing. There's John's room with a single bed and two singles in the other bedroom. I'll leave you to sort yourselves out." John's mom wished them all good night and added to help themselves to anything if they were hungry later. All three young men gave her a kiss goodnight and she went up to bed thinking what wonderful friends her son had.

Once she was upstairs, Freddie turned to Roger. "Well, lovey. How did it go?" He was sitting on the edge of the armchair, his arm around the back of it, looking down at his younger friend.

"Yeah, Rog. Did you make up?" Brian asked sincerely. He knew how upset Roger was about feeling it was his fault the bassist had left even as they tried to convince him it wasn't his fault about the accident. 

"No." Roger shook his head. He was fighting back tears and his friend's gentleness made him finally give in to his feelings ."He doesn't remember." He looked up at Freddie, his blue eyes so sad it broke the older man's heart.

"About the argument? Or about the two of you?" Freddie tucked the blonds hair behind his ear.

"Both." Roger closed his eyes and and sobbed, leaning his head against the singer's side. 

"Oh, babe. It's just temporary." Freddie kissed the top of the blond's head. "He couldn't possibly forget his relationship with you. Not possible." 

Brian crouched down in front of Roger. His dear, beautiful, fragile friend. He took his hand, not saying anything. The drummer could be the most exasperating person he knew and also the most loving and affectionate. He was the best drummer he had ever heard and had more talent in his little finger than other musicians. He was unbelievably smart and beat them all at Scrabble. But he loved till your heart broke for him and didn't deserve to be unhappy. 

"Once we're back home he'll remember, Rog." Brian couldn't tell him not to worry. He would have worried, too. They two younger musicians had been together for over a year and had a commitment towards each other. It just couldn't be broken.

"I don't think you should sleep alone, Rog." Freddie poured them all another drink. "Me or Brian? Take your pick." The singer pointed to himself and nodded so that the blond had no choice and chuckled.

"I guess you, Freddie." The younger man rolled his eyes and Brian made a good natured scoffing sound.

"Night, Rog. Try to sleep, yeah?" Freddie leaned on his elbow and looked across at the lone blond figure. Without speaking, the singer held the covers up and smiled as the younger man got into bed with him. It wasn't the first time and probably wouldn't be the last. Freddie was his refuge. Rather like the closet that was a safe cocoon from danger, the older musician let him feel safe and secure with the warm contact he needed.

A few minutes later, Freddie could hear the younger mans even breathing and turned over onto his side, feeling Roger snuggle up against his back.

John woke in the night, unaware for a few moments where he was. "Rog?' He called out gently, realizing he was on his own. He looked into the corner of the room. What had happened to the closet? The closet? What was that about? 

I must be having a dream, John said to himself and lay back against the pillows. He was still gripping Roger's scarf and wound it around his hands before he fell back to sleep, his face buried in the soft fabric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little angsty, I think.  
> Next chapter will explain more about the closet


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Fred have a heart to heart talk and Roger bonds with Deaky's mom.
> 
> The origin of the closet is explained.

Roger's father was on the rampage, again. His little sister Claire had already come into his room before the 9 year old Roger had fully comprehended what the racket was all about. He immediately, even at that young age knew what to do.  
"C'mon, Claire." He dragged his pillow and comforter from the bed and opening the two doors of the closet he tossed the quilt and pillow on the clear floor and pulling his sister in gently in with him he closed the doors.

"There, nice and cosy." He turned on his small battery operated flashlight. He always kept spare ones, along with some chocolate biscuits and chocolate bars in a small canvas bag in the corner. There were a couple of old Rupert the Bear story books to keep his little sister's mind off the noise and as they snuggled, sitting up in the corner with the glow of the flashlight it all seemed adventurous and fun.

Roger knew none of it was fun. That his dad would be shouting at his mother and threatening to kick them all out of the house which he couldn't because his mom had inherited the house and it was in her name. Still, it wasn't nice to hear the father you were suppose to respect shouting at the one person in the world you did love and respect, being called names.

Roger wondered how many years it would go on for. he didn't mind protecting his little sister but he could tell his mom was wearing down and he wasn't big enough yet to do anything about it other than be a reasonably good boy and study hard and make sure Claire was safe. he could do that.

"Roggie, Daddy won't find us, will he?" Claire's little voice haunted him some times. He had to be brave to protect her but now she was a grown woman and he was the scared voice in the closet.

Roger had never thought when he was young that years later when he felt lonely or afraid or if he could hear someone fighting or shouting that he would go back to his place of refuge. Not to protect his little sister but to protect himself.  
He was slightly ashamed of Deaky finding out his secret but he knew his friend would never tell anyone and in a way had taken the younger Roger's place in being a protector.

Freddie knew that John's amnesia had disappointed Roger. He had wanted to apologise for flying off the handle those few days but John's lack of memory regarding their relationship had stopped him.  
Freddie tried to think what he could do as he was shaving the next morning. John's mom was looking after them so well and he could hear her talking to Roger in the kitchen. Probably, trying to get him to eat something, Freddie thought.

"Hey." Brian met him at the top of the stairs. "Was Rog okay last night? I felt bad for him." The tall guitarist whispered.

"Yeah, he fell asleep in the end but I felt sorry for him. The last thing he needs." The singer followed Brian down the stairs into the warm atmosphere of the kitchen where the blond drummer was already staring at a full English breakfast and a big mug of tea.  
"Good morning, boys." Mrs. Deacon smiled at them and waved them to the table.

Freddie could see where John got his neatness from. Everything in the kitchen was neat and shiny and in it's place.

"If it's alright with you, I will stop in and visit John this morning and see if he needs anything and then you boys can have the rest of the day with him." She stood by Roger's chair and put a hand on his shoulder. "I know Roger is anxious to see him."

The blond looked up at her and nodded. It was as if they had an understanding.

"Sounds like a good plan." Brian nodded and his eyes grew big at the breakfast plate put before him and he nudged Freddie and nodded towards Roger who seemed to have gotten his appetite back.

As it turned out Freddie was the first of John's friends to see him. Brian and Roger had gone to get him some music magazines and his favourite chocolate from the nearby Confectioners.

"Looking a bit livelier, Deaks." Freddie grinned and sat next to the patient. "Mm, grapes." He stuck his hand in the brown paper bag.

"Yeah, Mom brought them." John sighed and seemed a little tired. 'I have to stay here a couple more days. You guys don't have to stick around if you'd rather get back." He said quietly.

"No, as long as your mom can put up with us, we're taking you back with us, Deaks." Freddie put a reassuring hand on the younger man's arm.

"Oh, great." John frowned. "Is Rog, okay? Mom said he looked a bit sad yesterday and she guessed it was because he'd been so worried but I thought it might be something else?" John sighed. "I just can't remember. Did we have a fight about something?"

"A bit if a one." Freddie nodded. "That's why you came up to Leicester." Freddie was hoping the bassists memory might get a hint.

"Really? It must have been bad." But he didn't ask what it was about. "Fred?" He looked at the doorway.

"Yeah, mate." Freddie pulled his chair closer.

"This is going to sound really strange." The younger man pre warned him.

"Go on." The singer wondered where this was going. He hoped Brian and Rog would take a while longer.

"This is really difficult and embarrassing." John bit down on his bottom lip. "I think I have feelings for Rog. Like romantic feelings. Don't laugh, Fred." He frowned as the singer smiled.

"I'm not laughing Deaks. I think the feeling just may be mutual." He raised his eyebrows.

"Really? He said so? Really?" John sat up a bit and Freddie plumped the pillow up behind him.

"Yeah. Just, he was so worried about the argument and you storming off and he kind of let me know. So." The older man raised his open hands. "There you go. But don't let on I told you, Deaks. Maybe, just go slow like you would, you know."

"Yeah. Okay. Yeah." John nodded, staring into the distance. Just then Brian and Roger came in, all smiles about their purchases and Freddie moved over out of the way. He tried to catch the blonds eye but was unable to transmit any message to him so left it for later. But he did motion Brian to follow him outside the room for a moment, saying he was going to have a smoke.

"What's up? Deaky is okay, isn't he?" Brian put his head to one side.

"Oh, yeah. They'll kick him out in a couple of days." Freddie then told Brian what the bassist had confided in him. 

"That makes a difference. Are you going to tell Rog? It'll cheer him up no end."

"Yes, later. I'll take him for a walk. Poor love." Freddie shook his head. "Honestly, those two."

"Life had never been dull with them." Brian sighed and followed the singer outside for a rare cigarette break.

"Thanks for those, Rog." John looked at the magazines and grinned at his friend, thinking how attractive he looked and why had it taken him so long to see it. 

"You're welcome." the blond sat down and crossed his legs as he leaned forward. "You're mom sure is a good cook, Deaks." He confided.

"You got the full English, huh?" John nodded. "She likes cooking for guys. Says there are never left overs."

"I bet." Roger smiled and fell silent. "I've missed you, Deaks." He said seriously.

"Me, too. Missed you, I mean." John sighed. "I can't remember very much of recently. Fred said we had a fight?"

"Yeah, my fault. Misunderstanding." Roger blushed, ashamed of how he'd reacted a few days earlier.

"Hey." John put his hand out and touched the blonds knee. "It's okay, I've forgotten. So, if I did something, I'm really sorry, Rog. Really."

"Ah, forget it. You just have to come home with us." Roger wasn't sure what else to say so changed the subject to music. he was more comfortable with that.

"Fred? What should I do, though? I mean we share a room." Roger was sitting up in bed that night after his shower with freshly washed hair and a pink scrubbed face. The drummer wasn't Freddie's type but he got the attraction for Deaky.

"Well, I guess separate the beds again, for a start, babe." The singer looked at him and the blond nodded slowly.

"Just take it easy. I think John made most of the moves last time, didn't he?"

"Haha, yes. He did." The drummer nodded and crossed his arms. "Shy Deaky, he was not." He sighed and slid back down under the covers. He would just all asleep thinking about that. Yes, there were things to look forward to. now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really like comments. I write much more if I get them, silly me. Instant gratification I suppose.:)


	5. Chapter 5

For some reason I feel scared. Scared about going back to the flat. Back with the band. I've been in this hospital room for five days now. Get to leave tomorrow, so that's good. But is it? Seeing Roger every day. Watching him sit in that chair and watch dumb shows on the telly or make fun of other band's songs. Chuckle about things I can only vaguely remember and some things not at all. I think Rog knows I don't but he fills things in so well that he makes me feel as if I did live through that thing he's on about. But the best thing and the thing I will miss is being alone with him before anyone else, even my Mom visits, and when they are gone and visiting time is over he stays to the last moment and fusses around making sure I have fresh juice and snacks and something to read. I keep expecting he's going to tuck me in and give me a goodnight kiss. Neither of which I would mind. Not one bit. Fuck. I'm in love with Roger Taylor. The drummer in Queen. 

Freddie says he's pretty sure Roger feels close to the same. But what does that mean? I can't take a chance in him being offended. I'd rather keep it the way it is but God, I just want to kiss him. Just once. 

Roger smoked his cigarette outside the hospital and then popped a mint into his mouth. A walk around the hospital grounds would get rid of any smoky smell on his clothes and give the mint time to work. He wouldn't normally have cared but he did't want John to think he didn't care. He sighed and shook his hair before going into the hospital room.

John looked up from his book and smiled, laying it aside and sitting up straighter. "Hey, Rog." He smiled at the blond and for some reason he felt very brave and held his hand out to the blond after he sat down. The other man took it n pulled his chair up cloer to the bed.

"It's meant a lot to me you being hear, Rog. Really." John whispered and gave him a shy smile. He watched the drummer nod and smile and blush to the roots of his blond hair.

"Rog, you're blushing." John squeezed the cool fingers in his.

"Yeah? Don't know why that is." Roger rolled his eyes and then pulled away as the nurse came through the door. Luckily, she had backed in as she was talking to someone in the hallway so the boys weren't put in an embarrassing situation.

They waited till she had gone then Roger pulled his chair back and the same way John had spontaneously taken his hand he leaned over and kissed the bassist quickly on the cheek. Now they knew where they both stood with each other.

"Okay, then." John said softly and gave another very shy smile. "What should we talk about? Tell me some more tour stories, yeah?"

Roger thought if only the brunette knew how turned on was by that smile. He sighed inwardly. If they took it slow. Then he remembered his problem and that threw him back into an internal panic. What if he did something? John wouldn't remember about the closet. It made him go red thinking about it. Fuck.

Freddie had gone back to the flat and sorted out the beds by separating them and putting them at right angles to each other. He shook his head at the mess of clothes and debris had left when they had all hastily packed before going up to Leicester.

"Oh, sweet boy." He said to himself and rolled up his sleeves to start making the room look presentable. He wanted the same outcome Roger wanted. The blond and the bassist belonged together and he was sure despite any concussion and memory loss they would get there. He loved romance. And those two were romantic. 

John looked around the room as Roger put things away. Something was different. He remembered he and Roger shared a room but the configuration didn't seem familiar. But then, the flat didn't either. Like a place he'd been once or twice, years ago.

"Remember anything?" Roger stood beside him as John looked out the window. 

"Sort of. It's weird. I remember I live here and I'm the band and we record and tour and you and I are room mates but the other bits that come in between, just vague." He scoffed at himself.

"The doc said it would all come back, Deaky." Roger put hand gently on the brunettes shoulder."Just takes time but I'll help you like you always helped me."

"I did? What did I help you with?" John felt tired and sat down on one of the two beds.

"Lots of stuff." Roger smiled not wanting to mention the glaring one in the room. 

"Well, I'm glad I was a good friend. Am a good friend." He reached out for Roger's hand. "This is okay?" He asked shyly.

"More then okay." Roger felt as if he could hardly contain all the things he wanted to say to his friend. He thought he better not think of him as 'boyfriend' just now, though. But it was very difficult to just not wrap his arms around him and tell him how much he missed him in his bed.

"Are you okay, Rog." John looked at the blond with concern.

"Oh. Yeah, of course. Just thinking." Roger had sat down next to John and felt comforted just being that close to him. 

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything." This was all new to the bassist. But there was something enticing about starting a relationship with the blond if that's what the drummer wanted. He hoped he did. 

"Something smells good." Roger jumped up. He didn't trust himself sitting this close to the brunette and wasn't sure how just sleep in a bed a short distance away was going to work. 

"Yeah. Who does the cooking? Freddie?" John lay back on the bed. The drive down had been tiring and he was sleepy.

"Well, we're supposed to take turns but Freddie is the least worse of the four of us." Roger giggled and John thought he had never seen or heard anything more adorable. He wondered how he hadn't noticed it before. Odd.

"Well, I did check with your doctor, Deaky and you can have a glass or two of wine. You're not on any meds, yeah?" Freddie stood in the middle of the modern living room wearing an old fashioned apron and with a wooden spoon upraised in his hand.

John nodded, thinking a glass of wine would probably knock him out, he was so sleepy. 

John had showered and changed and got into bed about half an hour before Roger had. He was actually fast asleep when the blond had gotten into bed but before Roger turned off the light he looked at his friend for a few moments. The long, wavy brown hair like a curtain over his face. His sensitive fingers on the pillow. Roger sighed and wished he could snuggle up against him as if nothing had changed. 

John sat up in bed and stared into the dark. For a moment he had absolutely no idea where he was but something made him call out for Roger. 

"I'm here, Deaks." The blond quickly got out of bed and went over to the bassist. He reached over and switched on the bedside light and it cast a comforting glow on the two of them.

"Are you, okay?' The blond put a comforting arm around the other man's shoulder and stroked back his hair. He wasn't thinking that John may think this strange. This level of intimacy but the brunette didn't seem to notice that.

"Sorry, Rog. I thought you were in danger or something and needed me." The bassist looked over at the large closet that was closed and frowned. But he didn't say anything. 

"No. I'm good." Roger smiled and tried to make light of the incident but his heart was racing. This was getting too close to what he wanted to avoid. 

"Sit with me for a bit, Rog." John lay back on the pillows.

"Sure Deaky. I'll stay till you go to sleep." The same word John had said to Roger so many times when he had found him asleep in the closet and grabbed his pillow to lie down with him. Never eating as if it was weird. 

Roger sat on the floor next to John's bed and lay his head on his arm, close to his. Soon, they were both asleep. But a few hours later John woke up to see the blond still there and gently stroked back the strands of blond hair as if it was a natural thing to do. Little pieces of things were coming together in his memory but they didn't stay long enough for him to put them together. 

John had already settled into a routine and had joined the band in one studio rehearsal. He certainly hadn't forgotten how to play the bass and the rest of the band was ecstatic to have him back with him. They never could have replaced him or would they have wanted to.

Roger was sort of getting use to not sleeping with the bassist and was enjoying helping him remember things from their last tour. The blond made him laugh. he did wonderful impersonations of the roadies who were a lot tougher than the blond.

John had been home nearly a week when the worse thunderstorm he thought he had ever heard in London, struck about 2 am.

After the second rumble had totally woken him up he looked over in the dark but couldn't see the outline of Roger under the covers. His first instinct rather than rational thought was to go over to the closet but it was empty. He didn't even ask himself why he was looking there.

"Rog?" He called out gently. His heart was beating faster. It was as if something precious was missing. He opened the bedroom door and padded down the hallway in barefoot to the living room. He could see the blond curled up on the couch, his head buried in a pillow he was holding tightly in his arms. In the striped pyjamas and tousled blond hair he looked far younger and John instinctively pulled him into his arms and stroked back the blond hair. 

"It's okay, sweetheart. I'm here." He felt the drummers arm wrap around his waist and the blonds face pressed into his neck. He knew this wasn't the first time this had happened. He felt needed and protective and so many other feelings that losing his memory seemed small.

"Come back to bed, love." John took Roger back to bed and got him under the covers. He was about to go back to his own bed but stopped and got under the covers with the blond. "I'll stay with you, love." He whispered and slowly he thought memories were falling into place. Just one corner of a complicated puzzle was looking like something he recognised. 

The feeling of Roger's head on his shoulder as the thunder rolled over their heads was familiar and comforting. He wondered how they would deal with this in the morning. He didn't want Roger to feel embarrassed so when it was light he went back reluctantly to his own bed and didn't say anything about what had happened the next morning. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is starting to get his memory back but there is one thing he really can't remember and Roger isn't going to help him.

Roger's young life was a mixture of happiness and terror and joy, pretty much equally mixed. His mother and younger sister were the lights in his life. His father was a dark cloud that overshadowed his formative years. Not that his father was all bad. That was the problem. The good times and experiences seemed all the more sad when his father acted out and terrorized the family. 

Roger had learned at an early age that it was his job to make sure Clair, his little sister felt safe and that was where the closet came in. He had eventually made it into a magical place and had strung some discarded Christmas lights around the interior and some cushions and old quilts. He'd managed to put in a small bookcase with all of Clair's favourite story books and some of his from years before. There was a small box of biscuits and chocolate if case they got hungry. 

Eventually, the 'danger' had left the house and Clair didn't need him to protect her from any disturbance but there was no one to make feel Roger feel safe. He lived forever it seemed with the 'what if' feeling. Where Clair could let her big brother take the worry away, he hadn't. His mother had recognized it and tried to get him to counselling but though he went a few times he could never shake the feeling there was a nameless terror somewhere out in the dark. In the end he had left home and found new friends and tried to put it all behind him.

But the closet in his bedroom was still his refuge when he was upset or confused or had had a bad dream. It embarrassed him that John had found out but his boyfriend seemed to be closer to him afterwards and had no qualms in joining him there. But John had never made him feel awkward about it.

Now, that John was back, Roger didn't think he would remember their secret and had made himself go into the livingroom and put the pillow over his head last night but John had taken him back to their bedroom and stayed with him. So, there must be hope for his memory?

John was awake but he kept his eyes closed. He could hear Roger moving quietly about the room and then heard a match strike and the smell of a cigarette. Roger smoking was like looking at a smoking angel. John slowly opened his eyes and watched the drummer as he stood by the window and stretched, making his pyjama bottoms slip down over his hip bones, exposing his smooth, flat tummy. He was shirtless and his hair hung in blond tendrils over his narrow shoulders. John wanted to reach out and touch him but just as he thought it the blond turned and saw the bassist looking at him. Their eyes locked for a few seconds before Roger turned away as if nothing had happened and picked up his cigarette again and left the room.

John watched him and the door shut and sighed, putting his arm under his head he tried to make sense of his feelings that had reached his groin now. But a couple of minutes later Roger was back with two mugs of coffee and a cigarette dangling between his lips. The picture made John almost giggle but he sat up in bed and pushed the pillows behind himself as he accepted to coffee. Roger sat down on the edge of his bed and stubbed his cigarette out. 

"Do we have plans for today?" John stretched his legs out and looked at his friend. 

"No, well Fred has plans. Usual stuff." Roger sighed and sipped his coffee. There was a certain sexual tension in the air and Roger slid his blue eyes back to John. 

"Come here." John put down his mug and pulled Roger's arm. It didn't take much persuasion. "I seem to remember this bit." He said softly as he held the blonds head against his chest. 

"You do? Really?" Roger sighed and closed his eyes, afraid to make another movement in case the spell would be broken. He felt John's fingers card through his hair and he let himself drift into a half awake state.

"John seems to be getting better." Brian said off handedly to Freddie as they walked towards the studio where they usually rehearsed. 

"John is alright. It's Roger I'm concerned about." The singer breezed through the studio door and looked over his shoulder at Brian. "I've know him even longer than you have and John is his world." He added.

"I know that. It's pretty obvious." Brian scoffed. It was a relationship that was suppose to be secret that really wasn't but neither Brian or Fred ever said anything. But the the time they came home from the pub and found the two younger musicians asleep on the couch together, Roger's head on a pillow on John's lap the 'secret' was out. But still never spoken about till John's accident and Roger needed them to help get him through it all.

"Rog is very fragile, Brian. Despite how he acts most of the time." Fred nodded to to the sound crew who were just arriving.

"I know that, Fred. I just...." Brian wasn't sure what he meant. He made a note not to make comments about the two younger men, anymore.

Freddie was very satisfied with the rehearsal. They were all playing their best and John and Roger didn't have seem to be any different than before. Fred said they should celebrate but John wanted to be alone with the drummer and without asking Roger said they had plans. Roger raised his eyebrows but smiled and nodded, wondering what John had planned. 

"You okay with doing something on our own?" John handed Roger his jacket.

"Of course. Is a surprise?" Roger loved John's surprises. His memory must be coming back. "

"Uh, yeah." John thought it best to agree but now he had to make sure his idea of a long walk together was special. He seemed to remember that Roger liked the London Zoo. 

"I do remember some things, Rog." John was only telling a partial fib but he had to make the best use of what he did remember it it was only to see the happiness on the blonds face.

"The giraffes are my favourite." Roger grinned like a schoolboy as they stood in front of the giraffe enclosure watching the majestic animals nibbling acacia leaves as if they hadn't a care in the world.

John could only look at Roger and he felt a sudden excitement of knowing he was starting out on a fresh relationship with the drummer. He didn't need to recover his memory. He could make new memories starting now.

John bought them both ice cream cones with a flake bar in each. He could have kissed Roger when the blue eyes looked into his lovingly. He did recall some of Roger's childhood and though he and his family weren't poor he suspected there hadn't been a lot of outings or treats. Another memory had come and gone. It was so fleeting but it made him want to pull the blond close and tell him he would protect him. It sounded silly. Roger was as tall as he was. He wasn't a kid by any means and was actually two years older than the bassist. But there was something so innocent about him that John felt almost scared for him.

"You're looking at me funny'." Roger frowned and licked the ice cream as they walked on to the zebra area. 

"Oh, sorry." I was just thinking about where you would like to go for dinner. Lorenzo's sounds familiar. Did we go there, ever?" John had quickly answered.

"Yeah. It's coming back, Deaky." Roger nodded and licked the cone.

There was a drop of ice cream on the side of his mouth and John wiped it away with his thumb. "Having a good time?" He asked and the blond nodded and turned to look at the animals before he did something like kiss the brunette.

John frowned at the menu. They'd settled into a booth at Lorenzo's and John was trying to remember Roger's favourite pasta. Roger waited expectantly as if the evening depended on it. The waiter poured their wine and the blond picked up the glass, never taking his yes off the brunette. 

"Linguine Vongole." John said finally and looked at Roger who nodded. Just then the waiter came over and asked if they were having their usual? Both nodded.

"What's my usual, Rog?" John had no idea.

"Lasagna." Roger smirked. "You can't remember yours but you can mine? That's kind of sweet, Deaky."

"Are you flirting, mate?" The brunette grinned and Roger nodded with a smirk. 

They had nearly finished their pasta and Roger was thinking ahead to dessert when John asked him something. "Rog, how did we first get together?" John raised his grey eyes to look at the blond.

"You're on your own with that, Deaky." Roger drank the last of his wine and John indicated to the waiter they needed another bottle. 

When the waiter brought their wine and took the empty plates away John asked for a plate of cannoli and then looked at the blond. He had remembered the dessert they always shared.

It was nearly 9 pm when they got back to the flat. Fred and Brian were out so they had the place to themselves. John stood in the doorway of their bedroom and frowned. "I keep trying to figure out what's wrong with the layout." He said to Roger who was looking over his shoulder. 

"Any ideas?" The blond teased him. 

"There was only one bed? But not a single one because I remember having to squeeze out of it. " He turned and looked at Roger. These two beds were together, weren't they?' He put his arm around the blonds waist.

"Freddie came back and changed them. I didn't want you to be put off if you didn't feel the same about me." Roger said quietly and even now was unsure of John's reaction.

"I understand." John nodded and tried to look serious but couldn't for long. He's seen Roger's eyes go from happy to sad. "I think we could put them back together, soon." He said softly.

"Yeah?" Roger lay his head on the brunettes shoulder.

"I want to get my memory all the back first, though." John was really serious this time. "For you or it wouldn't be fair." He kissed the blond head.

"I guess I can wait." Roger sighed and kissed John's neck.

Roger couldn't even remember why he had gone to the closet or why he would have had a bad dream at the end of such a good day. But there had never been any reason for when it happened. But he'd woken aware of where he was and that John was there with him, holding him tightly and making soothing noises. He went back to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

John didn't want to ask Roger outright about why he slept in the closet sometimes. He felt he should know and it would hurt the blonds feelings if he didn't remember something so important. He decided to ask Freddie in a round about way if he knew about it.

Freddie was just folding his clean laundry ready to put in the drawers when John appeared in his bedroom doorway asking if he could ask him something.

"Certainly, sit down Deaky." Freddie frowned at a stain in a shirt that washing hadn't gotten rid of and tossed the shirt in the rubbish. John raised an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut. Seemed a perfectly good shirt to him.

"it's about Roger." John chewed a fingernail and didn't know how to start.

"It usually is." Freddie chuckled. Roger had the knack of being the centre of attention.

'Yeah, I guess." John rubbed his neck. "It's just.. sometimes at night he sleeps in the closet and I was wondering if you knew why?"

John wasn't sure if he really should have mentioned this at all. Maybe this was news to the singer but the older musician seemed to know what he was talking about. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to the bassist.

"It's sort of complicated and at the same time very simple." Freddie was pairing up his socks as he spoke.

"Rog had an emotionally abusive father and he would get these manic moments when he shouted and went a bit cray for no particular reason. Roger and his little sister would 'camp out' in the closet in his bedroom. Rog put Christmas lights inside it and they had a stack of books and a tin of cookies and would make a game out of it till the commotion stopped." He looked at John and saw the bassist looked shocked.

"I can tell this was probably the opposite of your family life?" The singer asked gently and John nodded. He felt sad for his boyfriend.

"But now?" John asked quietly. "What makes him go there now when I'm there?"

"I don't know. He doesn't know either. He should go to counselling but.." Freddie shrugged his shoulders. "I think the trigger is loud noises or bad dreams or any number of things." The singer stood up. "Sorry, I'm not much help. Did you ask him, yourself?"

"No." The brunette admitted. "I wanted to ask you first." John stood up. "Thanks." He turned at the door. "I really love him, you know." He smiled.

I know. Pretty obvious." Freddie grinned. "I'm glad. You were always good for each other." He confided.

John nodded. He kept forgetting that he and Roger had a past and that Freddie would know more about it than he did. It was weird. He had to try and remember as much as he could.

Later that afternoon

'Deaky!" Roger had been afraid John was out but found him in their room and propped up with pillows and reading a book. He looked up smiling and put the book aside/

"What's up?' He scooted over on the bed so Roger could sit beside him. 

"Nothing." Roger sighed and lay his head on John's shoulder. "Just wanted to see you." He lifted his head and dropped it down again, smirking.

John wanted to ask him about the closet and his anxieties but decided it wasn't a good time. He leaned his head against the blonds and just enjoyed being alone with him in the moment.

"Deaky?' Roger sighed and kissed the brunettes neck. He understood in his mind why John wanted to wait till he got his memory back before they had sex again but his body didn't understand it at all.

"Mmm." John unbuttoned the blonds shirt and kissed him. His body was telling him the same thing. He did remember the scent of Roger's skin though and the taste of his lips tantalisingly familiar.

"We shouldn't, love." John was saying but all the time he was kissing the blond and pulling him towards him, pressing his groin into him and pulling his leg over his thigh. "But I want to." He whispered.

"Yeah, we should." Roger said firmly. It was the best way for John to remember what they had. The blond had missed this so much. The physical side of their relationship had been very important and he felt lost and lonely without it. 

Roger hovered over the brunette and looked into his eyes trying to send the message that they needed to make love and he was willing to be the aggressor. The message seemed to get through and make John realise that yes they needed this to move on past the doubts and lost memories. 

It had been so long since he and John had had sex that Roger threw out all qualms about it being too soon. He was sure John would remember more if they were more intimate. He felt like his body was screaming out to feel John inside him again and nothing was going to stop him from getting what he craved. 

John looked up into the blue eyes and gave in. The blond was probably right. Their bodies had the answer and he wasn't going to deny it anymore.

Roger held on to the back of the headboard with one hand and Johns shoulder with the other as the brunette entered him after a long prep session that brought him to the edge a few times before he begged John to go ahead, he was good. But eh felt the brunettes hesitation and wrapped his legs around his hips to reassure him he was so ready.

Roger felt like he was in heaven with the love of his life inside him again. He stifled his moans against John's shoulder but not very effectively but John didn't care. he didn't care if the whole building could hear them, he loved the blond so much there were no words to describe it. Roger had been right that making love would help him. He knew exactly what to do to drive the blond mad with desire and grabbed his hand to hold it to his lips as he rolled his hips against him.

Roger tilted his head back as John kissed his neck and he put his hands on either side of the brunettes face to kiss him and then nearly screamed when his orgasm came in waves with John coming inside him at the same time.

John leaned over Roger and stroked the damp blond locks off his face. "You are so beautiful when you're wrecked." He kissed him lightly on the nose and waited. The blue eyes were half closed and he was sure Roger was asleep.

John was amazed that he had done that to the blond. To make him nearly scream and call his name over and over as if they were the only two people on earth. He lay beside him watching his chest rise and fall and tranced his forefinger over the slick, pouty lips. Roger was in another world, a slight smile on his lips, his blue eyes half closed.

John remembered another thing. That Roger liked kissing a lot after sex but that seemed to be out of the question but he didn't want to leave anything out and it was the right thing to do again. Roger responded to the light kisses on his lips and neck and stretched his arm behind his head and sighed.

"Love, there was something I wanted to ask you." John was twisting the blond tendrils in his fingers as they lay face to face after a short nap.

"Mmm?" Roger murmured sleepily. He didn't think he could speak he was so tired and content and satisfied. He opened one eye and looked at the brunette as if testing to see if he really wanted to ask him something.

"Yes, I want to do it again." The blond smirked but realised this wasn't the question and he frowned. He had a feeling what it was.

"It's just...you know, the thing with the closet." John said softly and realised his timing was off when Roger turned his head away and looked almost angry. 

"Oh, Rog. I'm sorry." John leaned on his elbow and gently turned the blonds face around. "It doesn't matter. I just don't want you hurting inside, angel."He kissed him on the forehead. "You can tell me anything." He added softly.

"I know. I just don't know myself, yeah?" He frowned again. "I can't remember after why I do it." He sighed and wanted to change the subject and ran his finger tips down the brunettes chest and smiled."Deaky?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Rog you are insatiable." John shook his head and pulling his long brown hair over to one shoulder he leaned over the blond and kissed him passionately.

A couple of nights later John woke with a start and sat up. There was a noise outside and he realised after a moment the bin collectors were emptying the new larger bins at the back of the building. The drivers were shouting back and forth to one another over the noise from the truck. John rolled his eyes then realised that Roger wasn't next to him. He immediately got up and found the blond, not asleep but sitting in the corner of the closet with his arms wrapped around his pulled up knees. He couldn't see his face, the blond locks acting like a curtain. He touched his hand gently to the blonds arm and waited.

"Rog. Come back to bed with me?" John finally whispered. he didn't know if Roger even knew he was there.

"Have to stay with Claire." The blond looked up at him. "Where is she?" He frowned.

"Oh, angel. She's okay.She's safe at home with your mom. Come back to bed and keep me warm. I need you." John stroked back the blonds hair. "I need you now." He said and smiled when the blond nodded and started to get up.

"It was just the bin collectors outside, Rog." John said as his boyfriend got back into bed with him.

"Was it? Not Dad?' His voice was sleepy and John assured him it wasn't his father. He waited till Roger had fallen asleep before closing his eyes. He had to wait for his heart to slow down. He knew he had to do something. This couldn't go on.


End file.
